Reconnected
by if.i.dared.you
Summary: Peter Kowalski and Gary Smith are reunited at last. Oneshot depicting what it would be like if Gary came back.


**A/N: **Ah, oneshot Gary/Petey fluff. I love it so! Anyway, this is set after the game - y'know, when JimJim cavorts around doing all the stuff he didn't have time to do in the other chapters. And this truly is pointless fluff - apart from some rather crappy Gary/Petey rationalizations that I thought cleared some things up for me. But then again, I'm a simpleton. The exact kind of person that Gary doesn't want to confuse. Oh, and this time there's no tragic love triangles or I-Like-You-But-You-Like-That-Other-Guy-Who's-Also-My-Best-Friend-And-You're-A-Reforming-ADD-Sufferer-With-Sadistic-Traits-Oh-And-By-The-Way-At-The-End-Of-The-Game-I'm-Going-To-Beat-You-Down-So-Good-Luck-Anyway kinda stuff. -phew- That was long!

Please read and review - anyone who does will receive a gushy thank you and my eternal gratitude! (not to mention a hypothetical chocolate cake and a hug! 3)

(wow, I'm in an especially hypo mood today, huh?)

(oops, better slip in a disclaimer..)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bully or its characters, apart from the ones I create myself. The books I mention are fictional, except for the Shakespearean plays, and any relation they may pose to any real person, situation or entity is purely coincidental.

(alright, enough brackets, here we go!!)

Pete Kowalski's room was neat, to say the very least. Perfect schoolbooks were stacked tidily in the exact corner of a spotless honey-boughten desk, and his bedspread - mushroom pink, of course - was smooth and wrinkle-free. At least, until Gary, still clad in regulation young-offender's grey slacks and sweatshirt, threw himself dramatically onto it.

He put his hands behind his head and reclined with his signature air of arrogance. His legs were crossed in an alarmingly feminine way, but he didn't care. He was waiting for Petey, and until the disobedient little rabbit decided to grace him with his presence, he may as well be comfortable.

While he waited, his eyes roamed around the dorm. It was depressing and grimy, at least until Pete had moved in. Soda stains (at least he hoped they were soda) were all over the floor, and eventually Pete had accepted the fact that no amount of scrubbing would remove them. He'd covered them with pink rugs. Gary chuckled to himself. Only Petey would do that.

The bookshelves were stuffed with trashy romance novels and wrinkled Shakespeare paperbacks alike. Gary looked over the spines - Giovanni's Mistake, As You Like It, One Hot Summer, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and an inferior rip-off of Romeo and Juliet, not to mention at least fifty more.

Gary chuckled again. Pete Kowalski was so predictable, it was almost sad.

He started to rationalize everything again - a product of his spell in Young Offenders and being forced to take his meds. Maybe he liked Petey _because _of his predictability. Maybe, at the point in his life when he'd met Pete, he craved stability, constance, structure. Perhaps, that was why he always ended up back at Petey's mercy. He needed Petey like he needed oxygen - because his life, right up until he'd met the Kowalski boy, was an endless, cataclysmic, chaotic blur of colour and sound. His meds and Petey had helped him regain some kind of stability in the seemingly prolonged turbulence that he'd thought was normality.

But, of course, he'd never tell Peter this.

He had to keep up the front that had become his own self - a selfish, sarcastic outcast with no real relation to the outside world and no emotional sensitivity whatsoever. Because, before Petey, that's what he'd been. He knew that he was hated, and for a good reason - plenty of good reasons - and a rapid transformation from monsterous molester to logical wise guy would confuse the simpletons more than was necessary.

Gary's sensitive ears pricked up at the sound of graceful footfalls in the hallway. Petey!

A bubble of anticipation popped in his chest and he sat up enthusiastically, crossing his legs and holding his ankles with a deliberate good boy expression.

As soon as Petey set foot in the dingy room, his face lit up with one of the happiest smiles Gary had ever seen.

He kicked the door closed and threw himself onto the bed, locking lips with Gary in a cumulative gesture of love withheld for three years. His hands twisted in Gary's hair and pulled him closer, and Gary's hand slipped down the back of Petey's slacks while the other curled around his neck. Their lips moved in a dance that was perfect, flawless, as if they'd practiced it all their lives. When they eventually broke away for air, it was almost devastating for both of them. They'd missed this connection for the six months that Gary had spent in gaol, and for Petey it had seemed like six years. For Gary, his months without his own personal oxygen had felt like eternity.

The outcast and the rabbit were together again - and neither had ever felt so happy all their lives.


End file.
